A sunny, windless day.
Zhang Ziliang and Zhang Shouyang each took a side of the big, tall platform, with a few disciples of their own standing behind them.
All necessary words had been exchanged beforehand and no one was in the mood for pleasantries. One of Zhang Ziliang's disciples stepped out first. He was bony, elderly, with stubbled chin, and dark skin. His flat nose and widespread facial features were clear indications of his Southeastern origin.
The domestic Celestial Master Temple was secretly offended by this. During its ninety years abroad, the foreign branch at some point had to take in pupils of other ethnic groups in order to maintain a solid foundation and spread the knowledge.
The Taoist community did not believe in "provide education for all people without discrimination". Contrarily, these fellows could be rather narrow-minded in this aspect: how dare they let a foreigner poke his nose in the venerable skill of Celestial Masters? That was preposterous!
